


Lights will guide you home

by Ravenna_5014



Series: Star Wars Stories [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Parental Plo Koon, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenna_5014/pseuds/Ravenna_5014
Summary: Master Plo Koon is enjoying a stroll through the Temple grounds when he comes across a rather distressed Obi-Wan.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Plo Koon
Series: Star Wars Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146023
Comments: 22
Kudos: 442
Collections: Anything But Qui-Gon





	Lights will guide you home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gai'se bal Mande](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277580) by [mneiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai). 



> I couldn't resist writing my own piece of work for this wonderful challenge. Obi-Wan deserves all the hugs he can get and Plo is just being Plo aka the best galactic dad ever. 
> 
> For reference, CoR is the Council of Reassignment. I don't think that Jedi use the full names of various institutions in casual settings, but I may be wrong.

Master Plo Koon is strolling through the maze of the corridors in the Temple. Every now and then he is passed by Younglings chasing each other down or Padawans running some errands. They are bright spots in the Force and being near them soothes his soul. Some of them wave as they walk by, others stop to chat with him. It is during one of such talks that he feels the rush of sadness-fear-anxiety- _hurt_ coming from one of the adjacent corridors. A young mind, and making a valid effort of releasing their doubts into the Force. Plo quickly excuses himself and follows it, only to find a distressed child – male - curled up in a half-lit nook. 

“Hello, Initiate,” he says softly and the boy startles. There are red blotches on his cheeks and Plo notices the sharp spike of panic- _shame_ coming from him as he scrambles upright. 

“I’m sorry, Master,” he pauses to wipe his nose on his sleeve and looks around as if trying to determine his exact location. “I won’t disturb you, sorry!” 

Plo is faintly uncomfortable with the way the child is convinced he’s being a bother and wishes to point out that if somebody here is invading, it’s him, even if he only wishes to help. However, he knows from his various Crèche-duty assignments that this kind of reasoning is rarely accepted.

“What is your name?” 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

 _Oh._ The Youngling that has been prone to late-night wanderings? 

“Well met, Initiate Kenobi,” he replies, and can’t help the surge of alarm when the child’s face reddens even more and he sniffles a couple of time. _Stars!_

“ ’M not an Initiate anymore,” Obi-Wan forces out, voice cracking. He leans against the wall, trying to keep his breathing steady, to slow it down. “Master Qui-Gon Jinn refused to accept me-”

Well, that explains some things. Master Jinn hasn’t taken a Padawan learner in years, and nothing indicated this trend to change. But why is Obi-Wan so distressed? Is he nearing his age limit? Surely other Masters are looking for a student…

“-and now I'm being sent to Bandomeer and I’m not going to be a Jedi and!” The child starts hiccupping and Plo needs a moment to collect his thoughts because the CoR is sending a literal child into highly dangerous territory. On the brink of a civil war. What in the universe…!

“Initiate Kenobi,” he starts, because the child will not be going to Bandomeer in the foreseeable future no matter what, “have you ever been on a mission outside the Temple?” 

The boy scrubs at his face and then numbly shakes his head. That.. doesn’t bode well. The first mission for an inexperienced candidate and CoR chooses this Force forsaken rock instead of… Salliche, for example? 

“And what are the objectives of your supposed reassignment?” 

“Objectives?” Obi-Wan blinks at him, and dread settles in Plo’s stomach but at least the child stopped crying. 

“Yes. Objectives. Your supervisor, your curriculum, electives, accommodations?” 

“I… don’t know,” he replies, playing with the hem of his robes. “I was told when there’s the last flight to Bandomeer planned and that’s it.”

That’s it. Plo breathes slowly through his mask, letting go of the annoyance at the sheer stupidity of CoR and focuses on more important aspects.

“Have you already reached your thirteenth birthday?”

“I have less than four weeks,” Obi-Wan says and hunches over, “Master Qui-Gon was my last chance to be a Jedi. But he rejected me. Said that I have too much anger in myself.”

Obi-Wan is clearly human, or at least near-human. While the Jedi try to treat each child as an individual, the characteristics connected to their race sometimes serve as a frame of reference in finding a potential solution to problems bothering them. Just as in this case – Plo can feel the faint traces of anger and jealousy lingering in the Force around the boy, but those are completely normal reactions for someone his age, prone to more ah, explosive bouts of emotions. Initiate Kenobi deals with his with an exceptional skill, managing to gain enough control to stop the tears streaming down his face. 

What concerns Plo more, is the feeling of inadequateness and tired resignation he finds when he reaches out with a calming wave. Hidden deeper, lingering closer to Initiate’s mind, not as easily released into the Force, as if he isn’t aware of them. Perhaps that’s the problem. The child before him is young, and those matters usually fall to Masters to deal with. In the Crèche the Younglings are taught with great care how to identify their emotions. But as they grew older, the meditation is usually done in groups, the Teacher only stepping in when someone is visibly struggling. It’s then easy for children to focus on the most prominent emotions and dismiss other, those fainter or unpleasant. 

“And what else did Master Qui-Gon say?” He asks before the silence stretches for too long. There’s something else bothering the child, the sensation of hurt too sharp to be dismissed. 

“That I may turn to the dark side,” Initiate Kenobi replies in a voice barely above the whisper, lip wobbling dangerously. Plo feels his own anger rising and quashes it down, not wanting the boy to think it’s directed at him. What was Master Qui-Gon thinking, saying such things to a clearly desperate child? Before he can reply though, there’s a flurry of motion and Obi-Wan is at his elbow, fingers tangled in the sleeve of his robe. Eyes bluer than Coruscant sky look up at him, red-rimmed and begging to be believed. “But I won’t! I wouldn’t do that, I swear!”

The Force around them sings, whispers _truth_ over and over again and Plo thinks that none of the Fallen has exactly planned their demise either but is helpless to do anything but raise his hand and gently run his clawed fingers through the Initiate’s hair.

“I believe you,” he says instead. Pauses, considering, taking note of the sudden tangle of emotions, and adds, “There is no shame in needing comfort.”

“But- I’m sorry, Master- You must have more important-” Obi-Wan breaks off, unable to continue. His breath hitches and Plo restrains an urge to sigh. What has been going on in the Crèche to leave a Youngling in such a state? In the next moment Plo has an armful of a sobbing Initiate and it’s clear that the child is exhausted. His frayed nerves had to keep him from getting a good night sleep, the stress from both lack of potential Master and the Tournament. 

Plo shushes him, offering what comfort he can and begins to think. 

Qui-Gon becoming his Master could only aggravate the situation. While a good Jedi, strong in the Living Force, he was prone to interpretation the Code as it suited him. After Xanatos has fallen, Qui-Gon vowed to never take another apprentice but came to the Temple every year at the Council request. 

Initiate Kenobi is skilled if a little brash – something he struggled with from the beginning. This, however, is nothing a helping hand can’t remedy. The Force itself seems to favour the child, curling around him like an overprotective tooka. It’s… baffling that none of the Masters felt drawn to him. This is something to meditate on later – the sudden dismissal to AgriCorps while most of the Crèchemasters know of his talents in Unifying Force. That’s not to say he wouldn’t be able to master both forms but… 

Plo settles on the floor and Obi-Wan clings to him, half sprawled on his lap, breathing heavily and so terribly confused. He is aware that some affairs are much more upsetting from the perspective of Younglings and that there are unsavoury rumours concerning service in the AgriCorps yet at the same time is convinced that this is not the road Obi-Wan is meant to follow.

 _Yes_. _Listen_. _Trust_. 

He hums and slips into a light meditative stance with a soft smile, glad to obey the Force that seems just as eager to ensure her Favourite’s happiness. 

§

Mace Windu looks past the shatterpoints, deeper, at the way the Force curls around Obi-Wan – just as Plo said – and wonders how they managed to be swayed by Qui-Gonn’s petty words and Master Yoda’s meddling. The boy in question no longer sports dark circles under his eyes, which shine with more light than they had in months. His presence in the Force seems more assured now and this is a change Mace can only approve of. 

"Master Koon, Initiate Kenobi, the Council sees no reason to reject your petition. Congratulations, Padawan,” he says and the Kel Dor lays a hand on his new Padawan’s shoulder, eyes crinkling in happiness. The boy unconsciously leans into the touch, looking up at Mace with something unreadable in his face, even if they all can feel the string of surprise-happiness- _hope_ radiating from him. Mace holds his gaze, and whatever Obi-Wan was looking for, he clearly must have found, because in the next moment he breaks into a smile, radiant and at the same time sweet. 


End file.
